


Perigee

by RhineGold



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Crack Pairing, F/M, I can't believe I actually wrote this, crack!fic written in a serious manner, this is probably not safe for LIFE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-29
Updated: 2012-03-29
Packaged: 2017-11-02 16:32:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/371077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RhineGold/pseuds/RhineGold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Granny makes a deal with a passing wizard to protect her granddaughter from the curse that afflicts their blood, while dealing with a little blood-stirring of her own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perigee

**Author's Note:**

> On the kink meme, someone requested a fic where someone had sex with Rumpelstiltskin for the first time since he became a magical being, assuming he was sexually inexperienced as a human. They asked for anyone but Regina to be the lady. Me, being me, I said “You’re getting Grandma and you’ll like it~” to which they replied “I am strangely okay with that…” SO THEN THIS HAPPENED. 
> 
> Note that this is really a crack fic, but it’s written in total earnest, in a serious manner. Please don’t judge me. Gracious, I am so ashamed to have even written this. What is my life? What are my choices?
> 
> (For anyone who thinks this is gross, remember that Granny is only like 50 here and that's really the same age Robert Carlyle is so somehow this is not terrible, okay? So bear with me~ This is really not that serious of a story but it needed to happen, IDK.)

When the first ray of moonlight peeked through the tightly-drawn shutters, she put aside her knitting and moved to the small bedroom. Leaning in the partially open doorway, she watched the gentle rise and fall of the girl's chest. Black curls spilled across the hand-stitched pillow. She still held a ratty, one-eyed stuffed lamb in one fist, the other balled into her mouth. She was only twelve years old and already it would be upon her, perhaps even in a matter of days.

The older woman sighed, running a hand through hair more silver than not these days, finally letting her live up to her namesake. She closed the girl's door, trying not to think of how it seemed like only yesterday that her beloved Tawny, her gold-eyed daughter, had slept in that same bed. She remembered when the girl's mother had come to her, tears in her eyes and a stain on her sheet, fearing something was wrong with her. How she had gently held her, as she had her daughter just this morning, explaining that some things were blessings, not curses. 

There would be time to explain curses another day. 

Her hand shot to the crossbow in the doorway when she realized she was not alone in the sitting room. He stood in the window, shutters thrown wide, back to her. The moonlight seemed to warp over him, as though it could not, or would not touch him. She lifted the bow but she did not cock the arrow.

He spun towards her in one fluid movement, hands raised in a mock gesture of fright. His eyes were gold in the firelight, not the warm, sunny shade of her daughter's eyes, but something colder, more reptilian. "Well, now," he sang, voice high and nasally, making her skin crawl as her haunches rose, "Is that any way to treat a guest~?"

"Most people use the door," she said evenly, not standing down.

"How cute that you'd call me 'people,'" he countered. "I've been told you have some business for me, Silver Wreath."

"My name is 'Lucas' now." She corrected. He shrugged; an elegant, careless gesture. 

"I have a need," She answered finally, still studying him from her granddaughter's doorway, unwilling to leave space between him and the child. "The question is whether or not you can meet it."

He snapped his fingers, pacing across the space, not walking directly toward her, but drawing nearer all the same. "Of course I can do what it is you ask. ...And what was that again?"

"There is a powerful curse that runs through my family's veins..." She whispered, eyes growing distant as she peered over his shoulder out the window. The moon would be full tomorrow, she knew. "It took my daughter from me. Now my granddaughter is of age. She knew her first blood this morning. Soon, the change will take her. I would spare her a monster's fate."

He followed her gaze out the window. "In your blood, you say? Yet you are curiously unaffected."

She ran a hand over the flesh of her throat, beginning to spot and fold now with age. "I am old. The moon no longer holds sway over my body. I no longer experience the change."

"Yet you feel the wolf," He whispered, eyes glittering with something she could not identify, sharp teeth flashing in the dim light as he grinned.

"Always," She answered. 

He stepped closer then, and she raised the crossbow reflexively. The bolt slid home with a click. An expression of distaste flittered across his features and he reached out, using one finger to delicately turn the arrow to face the ceiling. "If I do this thing for you, I will, of course, require something in return."

"Anything." She said swiftly.

His smirk hardened. "A dangerous agreement, wouldn't you say, Granny Silver?"

"I'll do whatever it takes to protect my girl."

He studied her for a long moment, finger still on her crossbow. His eyes seemed to soften, the pupils growing wider, making him look more human, despite his golden skin and glittering hair. "...Yes, I believe you would," he whispered finally. 

Abruptly, he spun away, fingers tracing nonsensical patterns in the air as he pranced away from her. "Still, there is something quite specific I will require from you. We'll call that..." He leaned around to point at her with his left hand, "Your payment~"

"What must I do?" She asked, swallowing the sudden lump of apprehension in her throat.

"I need an experience. A moment. Not much. Just that." He moved to the window again, staring up at the moon, low and heavy in the sky.

"I don't understand," She said, coming closer until she was just behind him, lowering the weapon to her side. 

"Anti-venom must come from the poison itself," He murmured, both hands curling around the worn wooden sill. "I must know the wolf in order to break its hold. I think the experience would be... universally enlightening." 

She stared at his hands, thin and fine and oh-so-close to claws. "I don't think you know what you're asking," she answered, voice strangled.

He peered at her over his shoulder again, eyebrows rising in amusement. A lock of shimmering hair fell into his face. "Well, yeah," He said bluntly. "That's the point - it will be an experience I have never known. Such things are rare, these days." He turned back to the moon again, voice falling so low she scarcely heard it, "...I treasure such things these days."

Setting the crossbow against the wall, she put a hand on his shoulder, turning him towards her. "Come on, then," She murmured, tugging him to follow her through the other doorway, to the cabin's second bedchamber. Reaching up, she tugged her long hair free of its bun, letting the black and silver curls tumble free around her shoulders. 

He followed her mutely, mouth frozen in a tight smile, eyes glittering again, reptilian in the low light. She paused to light the fire in the cold hearth, and he leaned against the frame of her wooden bed, crossing his arms to his chest. 

"I have not transformed in almost three years," She said finally, crossing the room to stand in front of him. She was taller than he, by about three inches, and he peered up at her with something between confusion and amusement. "That does not mean I no longer feel the wolf." 

Slowly, she unwound the wrappings from her wrists, pushing the sleeve of her chemise back so he could see the scars. In the light from the fire, they seemed alive, as bloody as the day they were formed, cruel red whorls marring otherwise pink and smooth skin. 

His fingers danced in the air as though to touch them, but he pulled his hand back before making contact. "It was a big wolf," He offered finally, voice still light and sarcastic.

"You have no idea," She said darkly, raising her hand to shove his chest, hard. 

He stumbled backwards, knees buckling when they hit the bed frame, and he tumbled to sprawl across the bed on his back. He looked surprised now, the look of condescending amusement momentarily wiped from his face as he watched her climb onto the bed. 

She moved towards him on all fours with a grace that didn't belong in a fifty year old woman's body. Crouching over him, she turned her face to bury her nose in his hair. She could feel the heat from his body, hotter than any man she'd felt before. He was as warm as she. He smelled of moonlight and too many spices to name. She could feel her mouth watering with something that was not hunger. His eyes never left her face.

When she looked down at him, her eyes were wide in the darkness, a ring of gold brightening the green until there were no traces left. "My, my, Granny," He whispered softly, voice taking on a lower pitch suddenly, "What big eyes you have..."

"All the better to see you with, my dear..." She murmured, leaning down and curving her mouth over his. His lips were cool to the touch, but they warmed almost instantly beneath hers. His skin felt firm, solid, and thicker than human flesh, feeling pebbled and dimpled, but still as soft as a child's. 

He opened his mouth into the kiss, but made no move to participate, letting her do all the work. She tasted the insides of his teeth, traces of wine and the grit of those unnamed spices flooding her tongue. 

She trailed her hands down, over his leather jerkin and lower, gripping his thin hips, squeezing the flesh there in a grip that did not belong to an old woman either. "My, my, Granny..." He gasped, twisting on her flannel coverlet, his golden face darkening as his eyes narrowed to slits, "What strong arms you have..." 

Pushing the leather jerkin upwards, she ran her tongue over his skin, finding it sweet and salty. "The better to hold you with, my dear..." He writhed beneath her, clutching at the blankets now as a long, low hiss eased out of him like a sigh. She could feel her teeth, heavy in her mouth for the first time in years. She did not even need to feel the moonlight now - this man seemed made of the same magic that had coaxed her to shift and to howl, all those years ago. She attacked the laces of his leather breeches with tongue and teeth, making quick work of what should have been complicated fastenings. 

He reached down to grab hold of her shoulder, his expression purely surprised now. "My... My... Granny... What big teeth you have..." 

She smiled at him, all teeth, and caught hold of both of his wrists. Pulling him down to lie flat on the bed again, she took both his hands in one of hers, forcing him to curl onto his side as she moved down his body again. He was lighter than a man his size should have been, and she was much stronger than a woman of her appearance would seem. Using her free hand to push up on the small of his back, she took him in her mouth.

Rumpelstiltskin let out a high-pitched laugh that bordered on hysterical, his hips surging upwards before dropping back sharply in shock. He moaned, twisting under her ministrations and she smiled around him. She took him deeper, hollowing her cheeks to create an almost unbearable pressure that left him panting. He had demanded the wolf and she was more than happy to oblige. 

He jerked his hips forward again, and she held him there, forcing him to arch his back as she gently and oh-so-carefully applied her aching teeth. He let out a sound that was more scream that not and she swallowed him down with a hunger she could feel in her bones. Long after he was spent, she held him there, relishing the taste of his hot, delicious skin. 

When she released him, he lay there, still half-curled on his side, chest heaving. He curled his wrists to his chest, making a soft whimpering sound that bubbled up into another of his high-pitched laughs. "Well, well, Granny Silver. You are full of surprises and hidden things..."

"A moment you've never known," She answered, drawing back on her knees. 

He met her eyes, giving her a long and searching look, that strange, almost human light in those gold eyes again. "Absolutely true," he said finally.

"Now for my needs," She reminded him, voice sharpening against that gentle, intimate expression.

He nodded, all business again, reaching down to tug up his breeches. They seemed to lace themselves and he was reaching into his shirt, pulling free an impossibly bulky fold of bright golden cloth. 

She took it with shaking hands, examining it - a plain square woven of golden thread. She looked at him expectantly.

He crossed his arms behind his head, looping one booted leg over the other, a wide grin splitting his face. He looked utterly relaxed and she found herself annoyed at his presence again, the attachment and euphoria of pushing him down into her bed already fading. "Go and throw it into the fire~" He sang, voice impish again.

Her face quirking into a cross gesture, nevertheless, she stood and heaved the precious material into the fire. It flared brightly, making her cover her face with her arm. As the bright golden light faded, she reached into the flames and pulled it back out. As it lifted from the fire, the material changed, lengthening, darkening, and gaining folds as it molded itself into a brilliant, scarlet cloak of rich, heavy fabric.

"She must wear it every time there is a moon," He cautioned. "If it does not cover her, it will do nothing for her."

"And if it does?" She asked, turning towards him, holding the beautiful cloak at arm's length. 

"Then she will not change, nor hunger, nor hunt. She will be safe from all that you fear." 

Nodding stiffly, she folded the cloak. 

"Now then, dearie," He called teasingly, rolling to his feet, "If you ever find yourself feeling a bit... peckish... feel free to give me a call~"

She opened her mouth to snap back at him, but he waved dismissively, sauntering through the door. She stepped after him, only to find the sitting room empty. The window across the room stood wide open, the moon shimmering low on the horizon. Snarling to herself, she threw the cloak over one shoulder, slamming the wooden shutters closed again. 

She stopped there, leaning heavily against the barred window, the weight of what she'd done settling over her. Touching the fingers of one hand to her lips, she absently stroked the material of the cloak with the other. Her precious Red was worth anything, she told herself. She could hear the sound he'd made as he came in the back of her mind, and she shook her head, telling herself it had been a necessary evil and certainly not something she had enjoyed. Certainly not something she was contemplating repeating. 

Silver turned and walked back towards the room where her young granddaughter lay sleeping, covering her with the rich, red cloak. Outside, she could feel the moon racing across the sky as the night wore on, but she ignored it once more and headed for bed. 

In the woods outside the cottage, Rumpelstiltskin blew a kiss towards the sleepy cottage before vanishing into a puff of violet smoke. Another deal well made.

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, that happened. Your world is forever changed for having read that.


End file.
